Thalassa
A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor.
Her eyes never leave his as they regain their smooth roguish glint. Even as he prowls to the barrel in the corner, the blue of his gaze lingers in her mind. She watches as each muscle of his arms bulge, although he still opens the barrel effortlessly. That doesn't mean it's any less satisfying to observe his unparalleled strength. When he returns with a dusty bottle of amber liquor, she grins and accepts the bottle. "What kind indeed?" Thal takes a large swig from the bottle, letting a dare settle in her gaze before offering it back to him. The burn of the alcohol warms her throat as its acidic smell mixes with the dust.
At the prospect of drowning, Thal waves her hand flippantly and laughs. "Choking doesn't scare me." She meets his smirk with one of her own and bends forward when she lowers her voice to an airy whisper. "Not much does."
The depth of his voice mixes with the liquor. Her insides heat further and a buzz of excitement fills her head. Thal plays along with his dramatics, sighing loudly. "What fun would life be without danger?" Looking at the curl dangling down his face, the man appears more menacing with a single eye partially obscured. She gives him a sharp fanged grin. "Wouldn't you agree?"
